All In A Very Long Day's Work
by paperstack
Summary: On the run from the Elders and his responsibilities as the leader of the Li Clan, a penniless Syaoran escapes to Tomoeda, where he tackles several uncool jobs to hilarious results. Potential SxS, AU. Please review!
1. Day 1: Syaoran reaches Tomoeda

All In A (Very Long) Day's Work

Story Summary: On the run from the Elders and his responsibilities as the leader of the Li Clan, a penniless Syaoran escapes to Tomoeda, where he tackles several uncool jobs to hilarious results. Potential SxS, AU.

Disclaimer: All characters are CLAMP's.

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Syaoran slammed the sheathed sword onto the mahogany table, everyone wincing as it left a deep skid mark in the varnish. One of the Elders began, "Do not be rude, child-" but was cut off by Syaoran's chilly voice, spitting out his words with a cold, intense anger.

"_Shut the hell up_, old man. I'm not going to stick around and get my life royally screwed up by a bunch of old faggots. Cancel the bloody engagement, there's no way in hell I'm agreeing to it."

He lifted the tasseled, gold-veined handle of the sword, then contemptuously dropped it onto the table again. "Return their engagement gifts right now. I will not tolerate such utter idiocy." Across the room, an old man in a deep red mandarin robe stood up jerkily, holding a tall wooden staff in one hand to support himself. His lip curled over his scanty white beard.

"And I _will not_ tolerate such disrespect either."

His bony hands were gripping the thick staff so tightly that his knuckles were glowing white under the wrinkled, mottled skin. "You do not have a choice. Do not even presume to think you have a say in this matter."

A muscle in the young man's jaw twitched. "Because of what? Again, the over-rated-" he formed insolent inverted commas in the air with his fingers- "'honour' of the Li Clan?" The red-robed Elder struck the floor angrily with the bottom of his dragon-carved staff. "Your life is not your own. As the only son of the Li Clan you have a duty to your ancestors and kinsmen-"

"Bullshit!" Syaoran spat vehemently. "Hear this, old man. I have given up twenty years of my life. _You will not get a day more from me_." With this, he walked past the rest of the seated Elders, and strode out of the room, taking care to kick the door shut behind him.

The loud slam and the shouts of anger from behind it gave him a measure of satisfaction, and he silently told himself it marked the closure of a part of his life. He would not ever return.

"Summon Yelan," the red-robed Elder commanded. "We should have taken the boy from the start as planned. She will be punished for not raising a worthy leader of our Clan. The engagement will proceed as planned; do not let the boy leave the house, and do not let his mother see him. He will be confined till he learns the extent of his responsibility."

But by the time the order went down to the guard post by the gates, Syaoran had already gone.

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"I really need your help this time, Meiling… "

"No."

"Please, Meiling…"

"No."

"_Meiling_…"

"_No_."

"I'll give you my firstborn, my first million, my car, my horses, my villa in Bali, and all my credit cards, just please, please, please, _please_ give me my passport Meiling!"

The petite black haired girl faked an expression of hard consideration, dimpling her chin with a finger and flicking her eyes upwards.

"_Hmmmmmmmmmmm…_ okay."

Syaoran heaved a dramatic sigh, and got off the floor, rubbing his knees. "You did that just to be difficult, didn't you. You'd already decided to help me but just had to keep me waiting in agony a little longer."

His cousin flashed him a bright smile. "I also like to see you grovel."

The misleadingly diminutive Chinese girl was dressed in a lime green form-fitting cheongsam with black trimmings, and had her hair braided and coiled around a ear, fastened at the side by an elegant gold and jade hairpin.

But Syaoran didn't notice- he only saw that her bright eyes had a glint of evil in them. Shit… he _knew_ that look…

Meiling frowned in an overly ditzy manner and pouted. "But there's a _leetle_ problem, dear cousin… I can't really remember where I kept it. Besides, I've got a posh dinner engagement about now, so I don't have the time to go hunting for it."

She mock-sighed. "You know, all those worries about my overdrawn bank account have, very unfortunately, displaced the memory of the location of your passport from my mind."

Now he remembered when he'd last seen that expression. When they were around seventeen years old, she had called up his school fan club and told them that he was secretly gay- just because he'd ratted out on her to her mother about her spending habits.

And that was just the beginning. Even thinking about what happened after still made him break out in cold sweat years after. She'd told him that he would _pay_. Man, that woman really knew how to hold a grudge.

The brunette was practically shaking in panic now. "MEILING! I NEED MY PASSPORT **_NOW_**!" He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and tossed a stack of cash, along with all of his credit cards, to her. "DO YOU WANT TO SEE THE ELDERS PARADING MY BLOODSTAINED BODY ALL OVER GODDAMNED CHINA!"

"Alright, alright, there's no need to shout." She made as if to undo the straps of the black heels she had just put on before Syaoran came in, but thought better of it when she saw his agonised expression.

She got up from the sofa, smoothed down her dress, and patted her braid. Only then did she haughtily walk to her room, back ramrod straight.

Syaoran started to follow her but chickened out when she turned and glared at him, before slamming her door shut. He could hear muffled noises coming from inside the room- her heels striking the floor, making decisive 'clop clop' sounds.

The clicking sounds of the safe's combination lock being opened. Silence. Then the sound of the safe being slammed shut. Heels again.

Meiling opened the door, and Syaoran was relieved to note that she held something in her hand. She opened the (sealed, he noted) large white envelope she held and popped the slim book out into his outstretched hands.

"_Thank_ you."

He quickly riffled through the pages to make sure it was his before stuffing it into his back pocket and rushing to the main door of the posh apartment, grabbing his coat from where it was slung over a chair on the way. "_Zai jian!_" He yelled behind him.

When he'd (rather speedily) left the house, Meiling walked over to the glass coffee table next to the sofas, where a thick fan of bills and gold cards lay. Picking up one of the cards and noting the three small diamonds set rather conspicuously in a corner, as well as the gold-embossed words "Triple Diamond Card" engraved on it, she started cackling evilly…

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Very early next morning… 

A tall young amber-eyed gentleman with messy brown hair was standing right in the middle of Tomoeda's only marketplace, looking a little glassy-eyed. He was wearing a beautiful navy blue suit with a crisp, expensive look, and he had slung his coat over a shoulder, with a deep purple silk tie peeking out of one pocket.

The back of his long-sleeved cream shirt was hopelessly creased. As the passing viewers' eyes travel down, they would be interested to note that a passport was sticking out of the back pocket of his trousers, and the tip of one of his shoes was scuffed.

Minutes went by, and the gentleman remained where he was, looking exactly the same as before except that now the skin under his right eye was twitching. Perhaps he looked even a little slack-jawed.

After a longer period of time, the coat started sliding off slowly from the man's shoulder, which was visibly slumped, as fingers loosened their hold on the material. Only when it fell, and emitted a muffled crack, did the man finally awake from his daze.

"Oh, damn." He laboriously creaked his waist in half as he slowly bent down to retrieve his coat. Then he felt around in an inner pocket and took out a handphone, shook it vigorously, stared at the small screen on it, then returned it to the pocket.

Li Syaoran scratched his chin.

He took out his wallet and looked in it. Apparently he saw something he didn't quite like- he started bashing himself on the head with his free hand. He returned the wallet to his pocket and looked round.

What a run-down-looking place. There wasn't a building in the vicinity that was over three stories high. The cracked stone pavement was covered in pigeon crap. Even the only bench in the area looked particularly shabby. He walked over to it, and sat down.

Then he started wondering what the hell he was doing in this place.

The lethargic cogs of his mind started to whir. Oh, yeah, that… _fiasco_ of a discussion with the Elders. After grabbing his passport from Meiling, (who had been in charge of it since that short time they had been engaged) he had hastily booked the first flight out of the country, which happened to be to Japan, with a stopover in Taipei.

When he reached Tokyo five hours later, he again chose the first domestic flight available, which was to a tiny rundown airport so far out in the countryside that he actually had to take a bus to get to the nearest town, Tomoeda.

Even through the stoned fog of his mind, he had to admit it was quite a good decision to come to such a remote place, since it meant that he would be untraceable- then he suddenly thought about the network the Elders had. Or maybe, just harder to find.

The sky was becoming progressively lighter. Syaoran checked his watch- it was now around seven. He'd have to settle some immediate problems, which were actually pretty large ones.

He'd gotten his loyal personal assistant to book him the flights with his own credit card (which was hence untraceable unlike Syaoran's), and sealed his lips with the promise of a _lot_ of cash when he got back. He hadn't needed any money the whole journey- up till now. And since all of it was with Meiling, he was pretty much screwed.

Pressing issue number 1: What the hell was he going to be doing in this dump?

With no money, no place to stay, and no one he knew in this rotten little town, he had no idea how long he could survive without sending an SOS call back to Hong Kong. But he had no choice, really.

He'd given the Elders the ultimatum- and if he were to ever gain the freedom he had been fighting for since young, it would be through resisting the Elders. He would lose whatever little he had gained so far if he went back so soon, _and_ he'd be married off to some stranger, to boot. He'd have to show him that they couldn't do without him… while he certainly could live happily without them.

Oh man. Did that mean he'd actually have to _work_ here for his food and lodgings? If there was a company in here he could apply for that even faintly resembled the Li Corporation he headed, he would eat his foot.

Well, yes, the amount of business trips, presentations and negotiations he had to do before _was_ a hell lot of work, but he had the feeling that any job he could possibly take in this backward little place would not just be work- it would be _Work_. With a grime-covered _W._

Hmm. It would be best to lie low anyway; a small common job would do. He just hoped he wouldn't have to get his hands dirty and his personal office would be air-conditioned.

Great! A few people were already coming out to set up their stalls. He'd ask them if there was any place up for rent and who was hiring. He approached a very old lady carrying a huge sack who was wheeling a small foldable table towards him.

Fine wrinkles covered a sweet, delicate face, with a cloud of soft silver hair curling under her chin. She was wearing a faded tea-green yukata with a blue-grey geometric print with the traditional clogs. He couldn't remember when the last time he'd seen a traditional costume was; as a Chinese and bogged down with work commitments whenever he flew into Japan, he had never really bothered with any traditional Japanese festivals.

Syaoran stalked towards the old lady, and stopped a foot away from her, legs apart and arms folded. "Hey. Do you know if there are any job openings here and any apartments up for rent?"

She didn't even look at him. Slowly, she continued wheeling the table to a cool spot under a sprawling tree laden with heavy white blossoms, and locked the table in place with a few bricks around the wheels. The old woman grimaced as she bent over, swinging the heavy, frayed red-and-blue striped sack from her back before gently placing it on the ground, and squatting next to it.

Without seeming to notice the tall man's presence, she took a thick, neatly folded stack of soft white material from of the top of the sack, and spread it out on the low knee-high table.

The light cloth hanging over the table fluttered in the wind, with the thousands of tiny sakura flowers embroidered along the wide lace trim looking like they were about to fly off any moment.

Pale pink ribbon was sewn in a border where the cloth creased at the edge of the table, to cover the line of coins that had been tied along the underside to weight it down so that the light material would not fly away.

Hands slowly moved in and out of the sack without hesitation, as though this was a routine the old lady had done all her life. Pretty trinkets and trifles in wrapped in foamy swathes of material for protection were lifted onto the table, and they continued piling up, while a certain gentleman watching the proceedings was getting exceedingly disgruntled.

Needless to say, he certainly had had no prior experience in getting ignored.

Syaoran was about to shout at the old woman for her rudeness- really, ignoring the sole heir of the Li Clan like that! What cheek! That old peasant must be getting senile-

She had finally emptied her sack, and oddly, her hands were fluttering around in a curious motion, patting the edge of the table as she waddled behind it while still in squatting position. When she finally sat down behind the low table with a groan, she repeated the fluttering-hands motion until she found her sack, and pulled it closer to her.

Syaoran started. He hadn't realised that the woman was blind.

When he looked closer at her, he noticed that while her eyes were not a milky white, they had a strange, unfocussed look in them, and her gaze was wandering in different directions every moment.

He walked nearer to her, crouching next to her table, and examined the items she had placed on it but not yet arranged. His eyes found a striking hairpin that brought a scarlet-eyed shrew to mind. It had a polished stem of a richly coloured wood, with a trail of tiny, intricate blossoms made of red kimono silk and golden beads in their centres, dangling off its blunted top.

Fine carvings of flowers twined all around it to its elegant point. He picked it out of the pile, and asked the old lady in a loud but gentle voice, "Grandmother, how much does this hairpin cost?"

Her head turned towards his voice, and she smiled at him, though her face was looking more to his side. "You'll have to ask my granddaughter when she comes, dear." She paused, with her head cocked to one side, as though listening for something. "Etsumi…" Surprised, Syaoran looked behind him. He hadn't heard her walking towards them.

The young girl was probably about eleven years old and was rather small and thin for her age, and she had adorably large grey eyes framed with exceptionally long and straight eyelashes, and very pale skin, though her cheeks were flushed pink from activity.

Her hair was tied in a neat braid behind her ears and fastened with a green ribbon. She too was wearing a green yukata, but hers was a youthful and pretty apple green with a print of white rabbits.

She walked over to her grandmother, and greeted her by placing her hand gently on her grandmother's, then turned to Syaoran with a sweet smile on her face similar to the old lady's. The young girl gestured towards the hairpin he held with an inquiring expression, and when he nodded, signed a three, five, then two zeros with her right hand.

"3500 yen?" Syaoran confirmed, and she nodded. "Thank you, I'll have it." The girl then took the hairpin from him, and mimed wrapping it, before looking at him again questioningly.

The young man was taken aback. The _grandmother's blind, and she's mute,_ he realised. _I wonder how they get on._ "Yes, thank you." As he reached for his wallet, he suddenly realised that he had no money, and his face went pale with humiliation- he had never been caught in such a situation before.

He silently watched the young girl's deft fingers wrapping up the ornament in a scarlet patterned sheet of chiyogami, then tucking in a flap to make a neat package. She presented it to him with both hands and a smile, which Syaoran nervously reciprocated.

Stuttering in embarrassment, he explained that he had forgotten to bring out his money with him and wondered if they could please hold the item for him until he found some cash, if they would still be around for a while.

They were very nice about it, but Syaoran felt unspeakably embarrassed by the incident, and swore to get himself a job as quickly as possible- in fact, he would take the very first one that he saw.

He would soon regret it.

**Seeking a shop assistant with a pleasant disposition, ready smile and good taste in women's clothing to work in UMEKO STYLE CIRCLE. Reasonable remuneration. Please call TOMOYO DAIDOUJI at xxxxxxxx or walk in to apply! **

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Next chapter: Syaoran becomes a STYLE ADVISOR to Tomoyo's customers, to DISASTROUS RESULTS!


	2. Day 2: Style Advisor Part I

All In A (Very Long) Day's Work 

Story Summary: On the run from the Elders and his responsibilities as the leader of the Li Clan, a penniless Syaoran escapes to Tomoeda, where he tackles several uncool jobs to hilarious results. Potential SxS, AU.

Disclaimer: All characters are CLAMP's.

**Last chapter:**

They were very nice about it, but Syaoran felt unspeakably embarrassed by the incident, and swore to get himself a job as quickly as possible- in fact, he would take the very first one that he saw.

He would soon regret it.

Seeking a shop assistant with a pleasant disposition, ready smile and good taste in women's clothing to work in UMEKO STYLE CIRCLE. Reasonable remuneration. Please call TOMOYO DAIDOUJI at xxxxxxxx or walk in to apply!

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**Chapter 2**

Syaoran scowled as he ripped the small poster off the glass door of the convenience store. The glossy black words were printed against a coloured illustration of plum and cherry blossoms. "Gay, gay, gay," he muttered under his breath as he scrutinised the text.

"Pleasant disposition, check. Hah. I'm too damn nice for my own good. Ready smile, eh... quality always worked better than quantity for me. One good one and all females within 50 miles are floored. Piece of cake."

He smirked in what he apparently thought was a sexy manner.

"Good taste in women's clothing, hmm… all that torturous shopping time with Meiling and the idiot sisters should count for something. There, I'm perfect for the job!! As usual!!!! Ahahahaha!!!!!"

The brunette smiled triumphantly and waved the paper. "Here I come, pansy job!"

---------

Syaoran listlessly shuffled through the hangers of clothing, wondering how he was supposed to arrange them. He'd collected most of the clothes piled behind in the dressing rooms and returned them to their hangers, hooking them onto the slim wood frames in whatever way managed to make them stick.

The narrow ankle-length silk skirt was a bit of a challenge- he couldn't see any way he was supposed to hang it on the inverse- "V" shaped hangers. But of course, his sharp, genius mind had quickly found a solution to the little problem. The skirt was now rolled up into a thick rope and tied into a fat knot around the metal hook of the hanger.

He'd no idea what the heck most of the garments he had handled were- he certainly could tell most pants, shirts and dresses apart, but there were some _things_ there he hoped he'd never ever have to touch again in his life.

He shuddered.

He would have to scrub his hands hard under the tap later, and rid himself of the residual traces of utter _girliness_ that must have infected them.

It was bad enough that he had subjected himself to an utterly humiliating interview earlier that must have made the boss-woman think he was some weak-wristed _metrosexual_…

He scowled, thinking back to an hour before.

"_I've had… uh… an interest in fashion ever since I was young… played with you know, those gay Furby… um… Burby… dolls you can put clothes on, they were um, so fun…" _

_Ah crap. He thought he'd aced the interview until the boss casually asked the last question in her gentle voice- "As a male, Li-san, why are you interested in working in a shop for women's clothing?"_

_A small hand stifled a giggle, and large grey eyes framed with thick lashes clearly showed amusement. _

"_I believe they are called __**Barbies**__, Li-san. I am quite convinced that you adequately possess the basic requirements for the job, but I really think that a woman would be better suited to it. You won't only need to perform the usual duties of a retail assistant; I need someone who will also be able to give good fashion advice to our customers." _

_Syaoran hurriedly assured her that he was perfectly capable, waxing eloquent about his penchant for women's fashion magazines, the latest runway designs, and his sisters' clothes, barely stopping short of declaring that he was a cross-dressing drag queen. _

_The young woman's cellphone rang, and she looked apologetically at Syaoran._

"_Moshimosh, this is Tomoyo Daidouji."_

_Soft black bangs brushed over white cheeks as she nodded, a concerned expression on her face._

"_Yes, I did… no, no, the lace is supposed to be a __**creamy**__ lavender, not the pearly shade… I think it was number 53…"_

_She listened intently. "No, don't do anything, I'll be coming right over."_

_Tomoyo turned back to the brunette and smiled. "I'm sorry, I have to leave now. Thank goodness you came when you did, will you be able to start the job right away? You can put your things in the cabinet at the back. Wear one of the gold badges with the store logo, they're in the box in the bottom shelf. I'll need you to clear out the clothes from the dressing room and return them to the racks, the hangers are in the clothes bin."_

_As she spoke, she walked briskly around the office, pulling sheets of colour schemes and files of elaborate ink-and-watercolour sketches from various filing cabinets. _

"_You'll be the only one in the store. I haven't gotten the cash machine installed yet- the loose change is in the first drawer, write out the receipts in the carbon booklet, it's in there too. Give the customer the white sheet, keep the pink one in the book. The paper bags are under the counter, wrap up the garments in the white tissue first. The tissue is stacked on the pull-out tray under the counter."_

_Tomoyo finished packing the papers into her monogrammed leather portfolio, and shrugged on a knee-length coat in rose pink._

"_I'll be back in a couple of hours or so, we can take care of the paperwork then, and I'll bring you through everything."_

_She popped on an elegant little hat in the same shade as her coat, and with a smile and wave, was out of the door, leaving behind a faint flowery scent. A few seconds later, the bells on the glass doors outside tinkled._

_Syaoran put his head in his hands. __**Shit**__, he was on his own now._

The bells on the glass doors to the boutique chimed again.

Funny, he thought the boss-woman had said she'd be back in two hours, and it had only been half an hour or so…

He looked up at the door, eyes widening in horror as a thin woman with a big helmet of brown hair and heavy makeup sauntered in. _His first customer!_

Syaoran schooled his expression into something he hoped looked vaguely welcoming and flashed a wide, enthusiastic grin at the lady, spreading his arms wide.

"_**WELCOME**_ to Umeko Style Circle!"

His arms and smile froze, as the woman flicked him a disinterested glance and turned her bored gaze to the racks of clothes. Manicured fingers adorned with flashy knots of gold, jade and diamond brushed through the garments, and drew out a piece.

She looked at it for a moment, and tossed it at Syaoran, who managed to catch it before the heavy wooden hanger gave him a shiner.

She kept this up for about ten minutes, lazily making her way through the various collections, and throwing whatever caught her eye at the tall brunette.

When the woman had finally finished browsing through the whole store, a muscle was twitching under the young man's eye, which was almost obscured by the huge pile of clothes he carried in his arms.

A final bored glance around, and the woman exited the store.

Syaoran exploded.

"Shit, woman! Don't keep thanking me, I'll get embarrassed, I'm just part of the furnishings after all, right! And I expect you want me to put this whole bloody mountain back now-"

The bells at the door tinkled again, as an austere-looking elderly gentleman dressed in a suit stepped in, taking out a neat pocketbook from inside his coat. He was followed in by two young men, similarly outfitted in dark-coloured suits.

The elderly gentleman took out a gold card and gestured at the clothes in Syaoran's arms. "Madam will take all of her selections. Be quick about it."

Syaoran looked sheepishly at the clothes in his arms, and quickly dumped them onto the counter. He had forgotten that he always did that himself- having his personal assistant trail him to pay for and carry all his purchases. But the woman had no business being so rude to him, esteemed head of the Li Corporation and Li Clan and rich and handsome #1 bachelor in every women's magazine, anyway! Bitch.

The brunette ducked under the counter after going behind it, and found the stacks of glossy paper bags, and pulled out a few of the largest he could find, as well as the receipt book Tomoyo had told him about earlier.

"Ah… five silk blouses, 37,500 yen… seven scarves: two cashmere, two organza, crushed silk, beaded, leopard-print, that will be 31,776 yen, one faux ermine coat, 77,820…" Syaoran grabbed the tags on the garments, glancing at the description and price and scribbling them down in the thick booklet, punching away at the calculator on the table as he went along. The hangers were thrown in a basket under the counter.

When he was done, the bill spanned seven pages.

"Ehh, 466,920 yen."

Syaoran bundled up the woman's purchases into several big wads, stuffing them unceremoniously into each bag, and pushed the lot across the counter when he was done.

The elderly gentleman looked disgusted, and even more so when told that credit cards were not accepted. (More like, Syaoran didn't know how the hell to use the card-swiping device sitting on the counter; he surreptitiously leaned on the counter and nudged it out of sight) A thick wad of bills were dropped onto the table, and without bothering to wait for his change, the bags were gathered up and the men marched out.

Almost immediately, another customer flounced in.

"To-mo-_yooo_!!! How is business today?"

The young woman had bright green eyes and auburn hair that hung in gentle waves to her shoulders, pinned back at the sides with pearl barrettes. She wore a sweet white and pink-trimmed dress that billowed softly from the wind behind her.

Her enormous eyes widened comically when they spotted Syaoran, and she let loose an unholy shriek.

"BURGLAAAAARR!!!! HELP HELP! BURGLAAAAAAARRRRRR!!!"

She rushed forward to the counter where Syaoran stood, counting a thick stack of money in his hands, and swung her pink handbag wildly at his head.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO TOMOYO! DON'T THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH IT!"

She continued to batter his head with her silver-tipped purse, as Syaoran, terrified by the screaming whirlwind of pain-giving pink and white, tried to duck behind the counter.

"I'm the shop assistant! The **SHOP ASSISTANT** DAMMIT!!!!"

The pink bag sailed through the air, hit the wall behind Syaoran with a soft "bop" and fell to the floor.

"Kehhh?"

Two huge eyes appeared over the counter and stared down at him.

Syaoran glared back for all it was worth, pretending he wasn't crouching on the floor and holding on to a clothes basket for protection.

The green eyes slowly made their way down to his chest, where the gold badge reading "STYLE ADVISOR" was pinned.

"Eep."

The brunette exploded.

"'Eep?' 'EEP'? That's all you can say, you stupid woman!? I almost got a bloody _concussion_ from your _retarded _loser Hello_-_"

His eyes dropped to where her bag was lying forlornly on the ground, the embroidered Hello Kitty on the front trailing a few loose whiskers.

"_Hello Kitty!?_ Oh my god, woman, have you missed a few crucial steps in your formative years? Are you mentally challenged? Because, you know, I'm willing to overlook this little matter of your attacking a perfectly innocent shop employee, minding his own bloody business, and giving him a bloody almost-concussion, if you are indeed retarded and can't help your brainless, violent, behaviour!"

The big green eyes still staring over the counter in an expression of frozen horror started to blink rapidly, filling up with tears that threatened to spill over, eyebrows drawn together over them in a pitiful puppy-dog look…

"Ah shitttt… okay okay I was wrong, don't cry, please don't cry, dammit…"

---------

And this was how Syaoran found himself a half-hour later in the tiny pantry with the brain-challenged girl (whose name, he found out, was Sakura), munching on chocolate-chip cookies and drinking cold milk from matching pink Piglet cups. The wastebasket was filled with soiled tissues, and the taps in her head had, thankfully, run out of liquid.

"I'm really really really sorry about that, really, I'll get Tomoyo to give you the rest of the day off, so you can see the doctor about those bruises, okay? Are you sure you don't want me to do something about them for you? I'm really quite nifty with this sort of stuff, really."

Syaoran winced quite visibly. Like he would let that little terror get her hands on him. If she wasn't a girl, he'd have kicked her sorry little butt all the way to Langkawi, then dragged it back so he could do it a few more times. But, unfortunately, Meiling had taught him (the hard way) never to lay a hand on the weaker (snort) sex. Moreover, if she tried to cry again, gods… terrifying…

"Nah, it's nothing. I've had _much_ worse than this before." (Some male posturing was, of course, necessary to make up for the earlier embarrassment, though Syaoran would never had admitted it to himself)

"Then would you like another cookie?" She smiled broadly, dipped hers in her milk, and shoved it into her mouth. "Mmm, never fails to cheer me up. Thank goodness I got Tomoyo to stock up for when I visit. The sugar rush, you know! Always makes me a little bit hyper!"

She flashed him another crumbly grin.

"You know, Tomoyo and I have been best friends for ages and ages! We went to school together! She used to design all sorts of pretty clothes for me, and I told her, I think you really should set up a shop, your stuff's really good, and she really did! How cool is that! So now I'm half an owner of the shop, I don't do anything much, I just model the clothes she makes for photos and stuff, you know for the advertisements, she does everything else.

"Anyway, where do you come from? I don't recall seeing you around before, and I know almost everyone in this town, Tomoeda's pretty small after all, right? Ahh! Let me guess let me guess! Don't tell me the answer! I'm sure I'll get it right!"

Syaoran sighed, and started to sink down in his chair.

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A/N: No, Sakura's not like that normally, sweets just make her hyper.

Not done with torturing Syaoran yet. He's gonna get much worse than one rude customer and one lunatic Sakura, of course.

Again, please review! )


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